Hot jumping beeeeeans!

And a bonus….these political ones are insane!

But then where does this leave the relationship? I am so conflicted right now. I am hoping this will pass, but that’s a futile hope. This has always been in me. This was the dream from the start. It seems like a cruel setup where I am forced to choose between the dream that’s been woven into my heart all my life or the future of something beautiful that I may never find again. Could I even choose? Will I have to? Is it a coincidence that it is exactly one month til I am finished? Maybe my brain is just going into overdrive out of uncertainty of the future.

Damn. Please just tell me this unsettled feeling was that spicy food I ate yesterday.

I wanted to write about it while it was all going on but he has the address to this blog. I think by now he has forgotten it so we should be safe. ha!

It’s pretty strange territory for me, being treated right and all, but it’s what I have deserved all along and ultimately what I knew I’d end up with. I still sometimes have to check myself when I say the word “boyfriend.” it just sounds weird to me. I mean…. I’m someone’s girlfriend. How freaking weird is that? I’ve been the lone ranger for so long I just became incredibly efficient at being a singular little unit. Being someone’s other half is a hell of an adjustment, but it’s one worth making. He deserves it. I couldn’t pass this up. I’d have been a fool to let him go…. Not that he was going to let me anyway though!

The other morning before I was getting ready to fly back to work for a long stretch of days, I found these little notes he left me in my apartment. I mean, could you not just die, cry, barf and say “awwww” all at the same time? I guess being a GF ain’t so bad after all.

part of my job that annoys me is the grandiose scale of peoples’ lack of situational awareness. people get in an airport and suddenly time just stops. they fall into a black hole of manners, personal space, logic and anything else that makes a human generally tolerable.

i’ve been worrying myself lately because i feel like i’m slipping on that scary slope.  i do things like go an entire day with my bra on INSIDE OUT. this is one of those full scale lacy, padded underwire jobbies. what the hell? i did that today.

(how can i sit and recount exact details of a couple years of a painful relationship… at the same time my drawls are on the wrong way?!?!)

i also tend to forget peoples’ faces and conversations quickly after an encounter if it wasnt something that was truly impactful or had to do with a dude tryin to holler (sorry, it’s shallow but my biological clock is strangling my brain).

i find that many small details which i used to pick up on have slipped past my consciousness and off into that black hole i was talking about.

i feel bad and unthoughtful. i feel kind of spacey and rude. but then…. this evening i began to think about the millions of little details that i am actually faced with every day and the hundreds of faces i see and conversations i have. i realized i might not be a total spaztastic bozo but rather i have a highly developed consciousness. i am inundated with scenes, words, faces, scents, sounds, ideas and whatever else a mind can perceive and maybe that brilliant little nugget in my head has learned how to figure out what’s important and pare down what i need to ingest.

it’s that split-second prioritizing that my lifestyle demands.

now i dont feel so bad.

but i’m telling you, if i start wearing more clothing backward or inside out, please have me committed.

I noticed in a current magazine ad that Eva Mendes had replaced Naomi Watts as Thierry Mugler’s “Angel.” I then hunted up this gorgeous video spot with Ms. Mendes singing! I want a ticket aboard whatever train that is.  The presentation is glamorous, whimsical and glittering, in true Mugler style. I want to live in his fabulous world. (you all know how badly i wanted that bodysuit with the bow on the booty that he designed for Beyonce’s 2009 tour… I think I mentioned going grocery shopping in it.) Ayyye and that trench. I need that as well, not sure if its his design or not, but i’d imagine so. it fits the palette  from his S/S 2012 show.

The behind-the-scenes clip below reminds me why I could never act. I couldn’t look all orgasmic at an LED star in my hand while 10 production dudes stood a few feet away. I mean, I would feel beyond corny writhing in a chair in order to produce that beautiful (edited) outcome. I suppose that is why she is in the commercial and I am not. That and a lot of other things.

ayyye. these balenciaga boots.

i found the secret to beyonce’s legs. wolford neon 40 tights. $46 at nordstrom. now if i can just find her wind machine…

flashback: this ad was ENORMOUS on the wall outside security at Charles de Gaulle. here i was alone in the huge sterile airport in the most romantic city on earth. the moment was all very Parisian and chic and poetic. i couldnt stop staring at it. maybe i was a little buzzed from just leaving le Baron. maybe i just really love raquel zimmermann. maybe both.

rih love da kids.

all lady. no Gaga.

i could go on about multiple sources, but for the purpose of this post, i’m going to focus on this particular song. it is called “can’t get enough,” and truth be told, the first time i heard it i thought it was bangin. it was heavily edited and i wasn’t listening to the lyrics, i was hooked by the jamaican, islandy sound of the beat. it was unique.

then i got ahold of the unedited version, listened to what he was saying and got pretty salty. another song i’m gonna throw in the burn pile.

so here i go.

dear j. cole and to whomever else it may apply-

it’s not cool to write songs about having mistresses, hoes,  and side-chicks begging you for sex. it’s not cool to say “give me head dont give me headaches,” as if a woman is here solely for sexual pleasure and should be dismissed at the first point of upsetting you. because youre really that important.

it’s pretty gross to me that you’d say “i aint comin up off my last name ’cause i cant take no stressing,” because according to you, that is what one of the most beautiful and fulfilling agreements in life is? marriage is only stress? way to perpetuate an ugly destructive stereotype instead of using your voice for good… for fostering responsible love and teaching a generation of impressionable young men, who already have so few good models of love, that you can find a good woman if you act like a good man.  way to continue with the societal programming of impressionable young women by reminding us the way we get attention is through being good in the bedroom and shutting our mouth about anything important.

i understand. you’ve been fed the poison and you dont even realize youre passing it on like a disease. youre not confident as a man so you perform a song about women not being able to “get enough” of you… because youre some sort of sexual king and you assert your manhood by collecting women. you’ve got a lot of people fooled. thank God I am no longer one of them.

you see, i used to think i had to be a lay down, shut up “yes woman” in order to be accepted and loved. the kind of girl youre trying to train in your songs. she gets to ride in the benz and party on the yacht. she thinks she’s having fun, but she’s selling her soul because secretly what she wants is love. it’s in her DNA, no matter who she is. she might even convince herself she doesnt and that it’s ok. but it’s not.

so while you continue to spread your virus through your music, i am one woman who will continue to block out the garbage and eat the fruit of the tree of REAL knowledge, not the spoiled leftovers you’re serving up with a bottle of Ace of Spades on a silver platter.

i could talk til i’m out of breath, but i know you and the artists like you wont change. youre making money this way. youre gaining fame. this is the way of the world. all i can hope is that one day someone out there shares the cure with you.

xoxo

~Ms. A.

THEN…. I heard her acoustic version of it, (titled Thinking About Forever) and fell in love with it even more.

Absolutely beautiful. The contrast of both versions is incredible. I’ve heard his name bounced around for quite some time and I knew that he wrote one of my favorite songs on Bey’s 4, I Miss You. After exploring some more of his songs online, I concur that this Frank Ocean guy really is talented… I dig it.

the comical part of this is how uncharacteristic of my normal self this scenario is. at my heart i am a pacifist. i dont allow much to stir up my energy and i believe in staying calm and relaxed through any sort of emotional turbulence. i’m what the hip kids call “low key.”

as we’re now nearly 2 months past the conclusion of the relationship, i wonder what it was that made me so fiery. was it really love? was it the loss of control i felt? people ask me if i loved him and my answer is always yes. i think i really did. i dont think there’s any universal litmus test to know what this particular feeling is. love is a unique experience for every single human that lives.

i’ve never been in love before so i have no reference point to figure out just what i was supposed to be feeling. maybe it was extreme “like.”  i hesitate to believe that all those complex feelings, especially the crying and the dramatics over two years (that ultimately led to the night i  drove over his place unannounced to end it) actually was all sparked from some undefined state of “like.” love fucking hurts. like? well like is just a button you click on facebook when someone posts a cute picture of their dog.

we all know that over-quoted verse from Corinthians tells us love is supposed to be patient and kind. don’t get me wrong- there were some really great times. times when we could both see a future. eventually though, i was impatient waiting for him to give me what i needed, and much of our words were unkind. we always apologized, we always made up, but it was never fully right. i knew i had to free myself so i could get what i desired out of a future relationship. i stand by my decision and i have no regrets. i am looking forward to the day i no longer feel that tinge in my gut when i randomly see him on the tv or flashing on a billboard as i drive down the highway to the grocery store.

i liken it to pulling out a splinter. you thought you got it all the way out, but there’s a little bit left in there that you can’t see still causing some pain. until the wound is fully cleaned out, the healing cannot complete.

maybe that tinge is a just a little left over love that needs some cleaning out.